


That butler: summoned

by thoughtsandtealeaves



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Ritual, Summoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 01:44:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsandtealeaves/pseuds/thoughtsandtealeaves
Summary: This story gives the perspective of the demon known as "Sebastian Michaelis" on his most recent summoning by one Ciel Phantomhive. Spoilers for the manga up to the mansion murder arc.





	That butler: summoned

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to have a more atmospheric reading, I recommend listening to this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r57lteobjkU while reading this story. It should be fine on its own too, though. Thank you for clicking this story, I hope you will enjoy it.

“Ah… he’s calling for me.

In the grip of anger and sadness, confusion and despair…

The cursed words are spoken.”

 

The human world is one of constant turmoil, filled with chaos, anger and despair. Though they constantly strive for order, humans seem incapable of permanently imposing it on their surroundings. This is not for lack of effort - one glance at a gardener’s pride would testify to their constant attempt to tame and control all that is wild. The forces of nature are not so easily stopped, however, and any control over them is only temporary. It could be nothing else. The only way a creature with such a lamentably short life-span as a human could control an immortal force of nature is when nature submits to their will. It is only then that a human can feel a semblance of control over the chaos that controls their life, an approximation of order in contrast to the chaos of their inner thoughts.

 

It is only when nature submits to them that humans become foolish enough to call themselves its master.

 

**That butler: Summoned**

 

It is a commonly held misconception that demons, angels, gods of death and other intelligent non-human life forms somehow exceed nature. They are designated ‘supernatural’ by humans, a term which is somewhat ironic if one considers the fact that these creatures are as close to physical manifestations of nature as it is possible to get. This is most easily understood in the case of gods of death, whose existence is the physical manifestation of the concept of death. Every intelligent creature has a concept of death, and every intelligent creature fears it. Death represents an ending of sorts, if not perhaps the sort that many would expect. For some, death is merely a beginning. But for some death is finite, the end of the road, an entrance to an infinity of nothing.

 

For humans death is something that always looms close. Their lives are short, their days numbered from the day of their birth. They seem conscious of this fact, and it inspires great fear in them. From this fear religion was born, a final attempt of humanity at getting a grip on that which scared them most. Of course every culture had a different concept of death, and thus every culture gave birth to a different religion in their attempt to control that which would not be controlled. Human nature being what it is humans naturally turned to aggression upon discovering their different approaches of death, and for many centuries since they have not stopped fighting. Ultimately this lies at the base of every human conflict - the fear of death, and the desire to control what comes before and after it.

 

It has been many centuries since I have first set foot on earth, but I have learned that some things never change. The need to control that which can be suppressed and to destroy that which will not bend is not unique to humankind, but none other than humans have submitted to this need so completely, and none other have brought about such devastating effects because of it. Their desires are as transparent as the air they breathe, and their motivations as clear as crystal. And yet their will to live their life as they wish is so strong that it can bend anything that stands in its way. To manipulate them is easy, but to get them to submit is hard. To do this one needs to strike a bargain, take a risk, perhaps - and to give them that semblance of control that they desire above all other things. If only one guarantees that they shall have power stronger than that of any man one can ask anything in return. Their possessions, which they value so highly, their wealth, or their name; all are easily parted with in exchange for power. But of course there is only one thing that one such as me would desire - only one item so valuable that it is worth the hard work.

 

The only thing I desire of a human is their soul.

 

Of course a human would require certainty. One’s soul is not traded lightly, no matter how desperate the situation is. History has warned humans of the trickery of my kind. They require some kind of guarantee that we will be theirs to control and command. They require some form of contract. This contract is what keeps them safe, and it is what binds us to earth and to the human we choose to submit to. It gives them power over us, for a magical contract cannot be broken without terrible consequences on both ends. A contract can only be formed if both parties agree to it, and once a contract is forged it can only end once the terms of it are completed. Such are the conditions for our existence in the human world, and such is the price they pay for our servitude.

 

It has been a long time since I have been called upon. Though time passes differently here, it is not hard to tell that many human years must have passed since I last set foot on earth. Perhaps humankind has grown past their belief in us, or perhaps the knowledge on how to draw us forth has been lost. Perhaps the final day that so many believe in has come and derived my kind of our greatest playground. One simply cannot tell.

 

Such a long time has passed since a human called my name that I might have missed the call if not for the strong pull exerted by their desperation. Many humans attempt to call forth one of my kind, but very few succeed - to answer a call that is not made in earnest is simply a waste of our time. Only one who is truly desperate for help, any help, no matter what the price - only such a person can hope to have their request honoured.

 

Earth is familiar and yet strange. The laws of nature have a stronger hold here than in the place which humans call Hell. Gravity, air pressure - both are familiar and yet alien to me. I have been drawn to a room filled with humans - most are alive, but some are quite obviously deceased, and not in a natural manner. The smell of blood is heavy on the air, competing with the stench of excitement and fear. These humans have evidently studied hard - the summoning circle they have drawn is elaborate and adorned with protective charms which would make it difficult for me to enter or leave it, but it was not their words that called me. No, the one who called me is someone else. A small human child trapped in a cage, desperately rattling the bars.

 

_Ah, he is calling for me._

 

His voice is clear as a bell, drowning out the chants of the others present in the room. Desperation clings to him like mud, and fear rolls off him like fog. No one else in this room needs power more than this child at this very moment. Sure, they might desire it, they might even think that they are ready to give their lives for it, but none understand the meaning of sacrifice quite like this child does. Only one who has abandoned all hope can make an offer that is good enough to accept.

 

“My, if this isn’t a very diminutive master…”

 

My voice echoes through the barren stone chamber, though the words were uttered in barely more than a whisper. The chanting falls silent, the adults reacting joyfully to my voice, but my eyes are only on the child who has called me.

 

“You have summoned me. That fact can never change. The sacrifice you have made shall never be returned to you.”

 

My eyes meet his in the darkness of the room, and though there is uncertainty there, there is a steely glint underneath it. This child is strong - a fighter, even. He will grasp at the final straw he can find, even if it means giving up everything. Such a thing is rare enough in human adults, but even more unusual in a child of this age. It is intriguing to say the least.

 

“You have made a great sacrifice. Whether or not you choose to form a contract with me and fulfill your wish is up to you now.”

 

As I speak these words I realise that I have already given myself to him. Should he wish to form a contract I would not hesitate to accept it. There can be no bargaining, no questioning, no doubts as to the legitimacy of this offer. His resolve intrigues me, as does his strength under such apparent duress.

 

When his answer comes it does not surprise me, though it does draw a smile from my lips. I had neglected to form the semblance of a human, instead remaining in the shadows - mere contours, save my eyes and my mouth. He says that he desires power, a power that will lose to no one, and I am confident that such power is something that I can give him. He reaches out a hand to me, a gesture to seal the bargain between us, and I find myself grasping his hand without hesitation. He has made his choice, and I have made mine. All it takes is for him to say the words, the cursed words that will bind him to me until the end of his life, the words that validate the sacrifice he has been forced to make.

 

“Demon! I form a contract with you!”

 

He cries out in pain as the seal burns itself into his right eye, but he recovers quickly enough. His first act as my master is to order the destruction of those who brought him here tonight, and of course I can only oblige. They beg and scream and try to flee for their lives, but today they will receive no mercy. Their deaths have no purpose except for this - they have brought my latest master to me, and having done so their lives have lost their meaning.

 

Afterwards he made me swear the three terms of our contract to him. I was to protect him faithfully until his revenge was complete, I was to obey his every order, and I was never to utter a lie as long as our contract lasted. These terms, while perhaps childish and crude, would serve as a base just as any others would, so swearing allegiance to him on these terms was a simple matter of repetition.

 

From this day until the day his revenge was complete I would be his servant, his aide, the only one he could rely on. From this day I existed only to serve him and to carry out his every order. From this day I would be his to command, his to do with as he pleased. From this day he became my master, and I became his pawn.

 

On this day he named me, and I became Sebastian.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a gift for a good friend of mine for the six year anniversary of a project we are working on together. She asked me to write Sebastian's perspective on the summoning scene, and as I considered this good practice I took up the challenge and this is the result.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading <3


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